


Lunatic

by meangreenlimabean



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Medical Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:11:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meangreenlimabean/pseuds/meangreenlimabean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor parks in a remote location for some peace & quiet, until a bedraggled young woman appears at his door. Is it just bad luck, or did something else lead her to find him? This story came to me after touring the abandoned Trans-Allegeny Lunatic Asylum in Weston, WV. Horrible things happened to the patients there, maybe our Doctor stopped by once?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

He thought he had chosen a quiet spot to take a break. Not a vacation, more like a pause between adventures. It was simple enough to find a time and place where nothing happened. There are plenty of places in the universe where no one ever looks. London had been an extra bit of trouble lately, so on this day he went to the States.

West Virginia, 1924 in particular, had a whole lot of nothing. He chose a wooded spot just at the foot of a mountain. There were no towns close by, no one should have noticed his arrival. That is why it came as such as a surprise when someone began pounding on the door.

He checked the screen to see a young girl outside. She looked thin and dirty. It was February, and the middle of the night, but she had no coat. He strolled to the door and opened a crack. "Can I help you?"

She shoved the door open and rushed past him. "Oh, bless you," she gasped, out of breath. "Kind stranger, bless you." She wore a filthy, shapeless gown. Her ash blond hair hung in greasy tangles. She was barefoot. "Please sir," she continued, "please, would you help me?"

He studied her for a moment. Human, obviously no weapons. "What's your name, girl?"

"Vivian, sir. Please can you hide me?" She leaned against a pillar for support.

"Well you're safe here, Vivian." He stood up a little straighter and flashed her a smile. "I'm the Doctor." It didn't get the response he expected.

Her eyes grew wide and her pale face turned a bit gray. "No," she wheezed. "No, no, no. You weren't supposed to come for two more days. No!" she finished in a choked scream.

"What do you mean by that?" He took a step towards her and frowned.

She scrambled back. "Don't touch me," she shouted. Then she turned and ran.

"Hold on," he called. He jogged along quickly, not letting her get too far away. "How did you know I would be here?"

She was rummaging through one of his supply bins. He became a little concerned when she turned on him with a large sort of gun.

"Stay back," she yelled. Her hand shook but her gaze was frightening.

He held both hands up. "Whoa, hold on. Tell me how you know about me."

"I heard them talking. Stay back, I say!" She now had both hands on the weapon.

"Who were they?" He inched toward her. "Tell me more."

"I said stay back!" She was terrified, her voice almost a squeak. "You will not take me." Suddenly she turned the weapon on herself. "I'd rather die."

He had to think fast. "Do you know how to use it?" He nodded toward the weapon she had pointed at her head. Her gaze faltered, just as he hoped. "Look around. Do you know where we are?"

She glanced past him just for a moment, but it was enough. He gently took hold of her arm and pulled the gun away. Her shoulders dropped as she looked around the room. "It's too late, is it not? It's already done." She turned and looked at him with tears in her eyes. "Please, just kill me."

Curiosity got the best of him. He placed his fingers on either side of her head and looked deep.

_Gray brick walls, dimly lit room. She lies on a cot, curled in the fetal position. Insane laughter in the distance. So hungry, so afraid._

_Strapped to a metal table, they force a leather strap between her teeth. Wet towels on her forehead. Nurse flips the machine on and the current vibrates through her thin body._

_Lining up for shots. An orderly sidles up behind her. "I'll come by to check on you later, sweetheart," he whispers, giving her a squeeze to make his point._

The Doctor drops his hands and opens his eyes. She wobbles but does not fall. The fear is gone from her eyes.

His face shows sadness. "I'm not that kind of doctor," he says quietly.

"Then help me," she whispers.

"Of course I will. Like I said, you're safe here. You can stay as long as you like." Her eyes started to fill with tears. He couldn't have that. "On one condition. You are not allowed to shoot me." That almost got a smile out of her. "Now, let's have a look at you."

She allowed him to lead her to a bench seat near the center of the room. He did a quick sonic scan to make sure she had no internal injuries. She was dehydrated and severely underweight. There was moderate damage to her brain, exactly what he expected from the shock therapy. She had small round scars on the back of her neck where the electrodes would be attached. He applied balm to the rope burns on her wrists and ankles. The worst was her feet. No telling how long she had been running barefoot through the woods. The soles of her feet were so grimy he could hardly tell how extensive her injuries were.

He put his hands on her shoulders. "I need to work on your feet, or you'll get an infection. But it's going to hurt. Do you trust me?"

She looked at him hard. "I do. Just…" she glanced away, "could you talk to me while you work?"

"Funny thing, usually I'm told to shut up." He popped on a pair of glasses.

"It's been so long since I've had someone to talk to, and you have a kind voice."

The Doctor looked thoughtful. "Gets lonely, talking to yourself."

She nodded, looking surprised. "You really do understand."

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, patting the bench. Vivian ignored his changing the subject and rolled onto her stomach. He positioned her feet under a light and examined them closer. "This other doctor you were expecting in two days… is that who you were running from?"

The girl put her head down on her arms. "Can we have another topic please?"

"Fine, fine. Have you been watching Top Chef? I'd love to be one of those judges."

She turned her head sharply to squint at him. "Pardon?" A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. She shook her head. "Glad I'm not the only insane one here."

"Would you like to pick the topic then?" He adjusted the light.

She paused. "You're not from around here."

"You noticed the accent, then. Have you ever traveled outside the States?"

"That isn't what I meant."

He frowned at her. "You're very perceptive for a small town girl." He pulled a thorn from her heel that made her catch her breath. "How long have you been put away?"

"Four years," she said quietly.

"Where were you headed?"

She put her head back down and didn't answer.

He sprayed antiseptic from a tiny hose onto her foot "You must be resourceful, to break out of that place. A strong will to live. Impressive. But where would you go? In the mountains, all by your lonesome in the middle of winter; no food, no shoes, not even a jacket. Were you hoping to freeze to death, or would you prefer to get eaten by mountain lions?

He waited a moment, but the girl kept silent. "I know a lot about running away," he continued. "Been running myself for longer than you've been alive. It takes a certain kind of guts; we have that in common. But when I left, I was prepared, and I took a whole lot more than just the shirt on my back. Didn't you think it through? What happened, Vivian, what changed?"

He paused, and took his glasses off. "Lunatic asylum, early nineteen-hundreds. The early evolution of psychiatry. Young woman, dropped off by her family for whatever reason. The drugs aren't working. Electroshock therapy isn't working. A traveling doctor coming in two days. The ultimate cure, the quick fix." He kneeled down beside her and saw that she had fallen asleep. "Poor thing."

* * *

Vivian awoke with a start and sat up. She had slept deeply, and it took her a minute to remember where she was. The Doctor was nowhere in sight, but he had covered her with a warm blanket. She remembered falling asleep to the sound of his intelligent voice. Sitting up, she noticed both her feet were wrapped up. Carefully she peeled back a little bit of the clean white bandage, then a little more, then the whole thing. Her foot looked completely healed. She tore the bandage off her other foot and looked it over as well. All she could find was a tiny pink scar across one of her toes.

She stood and looked around the strange room. A tug on her arm caught her attention. There was a clear tube taped to her arm. She pulled the tape off, but the tube didn't budge. She realized the tube wasn't just stuck to her hand, it was coming out of her skin. Panic started to rise in her chest. She tugged at the clear tube, but when it budged, she felt sick to her stomach. Why did she let herself trust a doctor?

Behind her, the door banged open and the man called the Doctor strolled in, a paper sack under his arm. "Oh good, you're awake," he began, then he saw the terror on her face. He rushed to her side, dropping the bag just inside the door. "What is it? What's happened?"

She held her arm out away from her body like it was a foreign thing. He set his jaw. "Is this worrying you?" She whimpered and nodded. "Would you like me to remove it for you?" She squeezed her eyes shut. "Hold still."

He crouched down, squeezed her wrist, and deftly pulled the tube out. Tossing it on the ground, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it firmly against her hand. With his free hand he caught her by the chin and lifted her face. "You're alright, it was just an IV." She stared at him blankly. "You are severely malnourished, I wanted to get some fluids in you to help the healing process." He sat her back down and covered her up with the blanket. "I'm sorry I didn't get to explain it to you before you fell asleep." Then he turned his back and busied himself with gathered up the scattered contents of the bag.

She was grateful he was giving her a chance to compose herself. She smoothed the blanket with her hands and tried to slow her breathing. Whatever that tube was, she had overreacted, she ought to be embarrassed; but all she could focus on was the deep concern in his eyes at how upset she had been. Maybe he really was different that the doctors she was used to.

* * *

Vivian was thrilled to discover that the contents of the bag were food. Pea soup and real bread for her. Comfort food she hadn't tasted since before she was put away. The soup was still warm and the bread was soft. She tried to remember her manners, but it smelled so good she couldn't help herself.

The Doctor watched her as they ate. She was so caught up in her meal that she didn't notice him chuckling at her.

After she got her fill, he showed her to a room where she could get cleaned up. He browsed through a cupboard, tossing bottles and tubes at her. "Can you read?" he asked, off handedly.

"Of course I can read, what do you take me for?"

He turned his gaze on her. "More than meets the eye." She ducked her head, feeling a little wave of panic, but it went away. He continued, "the instructions are right here, take as long as you like. I'll put out some clothes in your size. If I'm not here when you're finished, just sit tight, I'll be back soon enough. Whatever you do," he made sure he had her full attention, "do not go out. No matter what happens, you're perfectly safe as long as you stay inside."

The wash room was like nothing she could imagine. Something resembling a tub sat in the center of the small room, but odd pipes stuck out of the walls and ceiling around it. Vivian pulled off her hospital shift and stepped into the tub. After glancing over the instructions, she chose a button and pressed it. Water began to fall out of the ceiling, but she had braced herself. Warm water hit her back and she sighed with relief. It had been so long since she had bathed in anything but cold water. She stayed in the wash room a long time, using all of the various soaps and concoctions until she was cleaner than she'd been her entire life. She could almost see all the fear and pain of the last four years rinsing down the drain.

* * *

Just as promised, there was clothing laid out for her when she came out of the wash. But these were clothes like she had never seen. She wrapped herself in a soft, clean robe and examined some of the garments. One looked like a man's outfit, stiff blue trousers and a collared shirt. She picked up one of the dresses. The style was more familiar, but the material and pattern were bizarre. She settled on a blue-green cotton dress. It was a bit revealing, her knees and elbows would be exposed, but the Doctor had already seen her in her hospital shift without batting an eye.

She started to put it on, but suddenly felt self-conscious. Everything in this place was so open. She pulled the robe tighter, folded the dress over her arm, and went off to look for a dressing screen or somewhere private.

After taking a few wrong turns, she ended up back in the main room. She tried to retrace her steps back to the wash room, but only got more turned around. When she heard footsteps, she breathed a sigh of relief and turned towards the welcome sound. "Thank heavens, Doctor," she began, but the face she saw was unfamiliar.

The man looked just as shocked as Vivian felt. Then he smiled. "Hello there," his warm voice matched his charming expression.

She found herself unafraid. The Doctor told her she was safe here, and for whatever reason, she still believed him. She straightened her back and looked this man in the eye. "Since you're here, am I right to assume you work with the Doctor?"

"It's not all work," he chuckled. "You've got the idea. We sometimes travel together. And where did he find you?"

His tone made her want to blush, though she wasn't sure why. "He didn't. I found him."

"Either way." He winked. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness." He offered his hand.

"Vivian," she replied, and reached out to shake his hand.

He didn't shake her hand, but leaned in and kissed the back of her fingers. "Vivian. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Now she blushed in earnest.

He kept a light grip on her hand and looked deep into her eyes. "So, you and the Doctor, are you…." When she didn't' respond, he only grinned wider. "What I mean is, Vivian, are you spoken for?"

She couldn't find her voice, so she shook her head. She felt a little short of breath, and her heart was racing. He brought her hand back to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. His gaze had never left her face. His lips left her hand and started up her arm.

"Please, sir," she finally was able to say. She pulled her hand free.

His smile faded just a shade. "Call me Jack."

"Jack, please," she shook her head, struggling to find the right words. "I have known the desires of men…. only to cause hurt."

The smile was gone now. "I'm sorry to hear that." His eyes searched hers. "But they've been doing it wrong."

She studied his face. There was so much longing, and she sensed honesty, too. He didn't wish to take advantage.

He cautiously stepped closer to her. "May I try something? You can stop me at any time." Without waiting for her reply, he leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. His fingers brushed gently against her hair. She closed her eyes and found herself starting to kiss him back.

He pulled away, just an inch, eyes still shut, and waited. She tried to slow her breathing. Her fingers clenched and unclenched. Finally she gave up and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him close. His lips were on hers again. Explosions were going off in her head and she couldn't think straight. He stooped down and picked her up, carrying her around a corner and down a ramp she hadn't seen before, then through a doorway. There was a small bed against one wall, and he settled her down there, kissing her thoroughly.

* * *

The Doctor returned some time later, another crisis averted, smoke at his heels. The front room was empty and silent, which gave him a bad feeling. "Vivian?" He listened hard. "Jack?" He smacked himself in the forehead and took off running.

The men bumped into each other on the ramp. The Doctor gave Jack a stern look. "Where is she?"

"Who?" Jack grinned. The Doctor was not amused. "Vivian, you mean? Right in there, sleeping." Jack stuck his thumb back towards the doorway. "You worry too much, old friend."

The Doctor's eyes grew wide with anger as he looked at something on the floor behind Jack. "Do I, now?"

Jack followed his gaze to see a pile of blue-green fabric on the ground. "Now, don't get the wrong idea. She was not wearing that when we met." The Doctor shoved past him and started towards the doorway. Jack hurried behind. "Nothing happened!" The Doctor swung open the door and peered inside. Vivian was asleep on the mattress, with Jack's military jacket draped over her as a blanket. He quietly shut the door and stormed away, Jack following close behind.

When they were a good distance away, he turned fiercely on Jack. "Don't you ever think before you pounce? Do you have any idea what could happen? Do you even care? You know nothing about her. Nothing! Tell me I'm wrong!"

"It's not what you think. We only kissed." Jack grinned sheepishly, but his friend wasn't buying it. "More or less."

"You of all people should know better. And here? In my ship?" His rage was building. "Nevermind that. Vivian - do you know where I found her? Where's she been? Do you have even the slightest clue what she might be capable of? If she's dangerous? Did you even consider?"

Jack grew serious. "No, I didn't. She looked so…. helpless."

"Such a fragile state of mind she's in. You'd better pray you didn't make things worse. Care to know how she's spent the past four years? Locked up. Tortured. Drugged. Raped. Electrocuted. Starved. And she's only just escaped. I can't think of anything more dangerous."

Jack sighed in defeat. "She told me you didn't find her, she found you."

The Doctor shot him a glare. "For a man with military training, your discernment skills are severely lacking." He started to pace. "She found me. Did she ever. In the middle of nowhere, an escaped mental patient finds my Tardis without even trying." He turned towards Jack and grimaced. "She puts off that helpless vibe quite nicely."

Jack realized The Doctor was looking past him just as he felt the cold metal against his neck. Vivian was behind him, wearing his jacket, holding his own knife against his throat. "What's happening?" she whispered.

The Doctor inched towards them. "Vivian, hang on, love. Do you remember where you are? You recognize me?"

She shook her head but her eyes were unfocused. "I'm not sure." She seemed to remember the knife in her hand. "It wasn't my fault, he made me. I would never…" and she pulled the knife hard across Jack's throat.

As soon as Jack collapsed, she seemed to come back into focus. She looked down at the blood in horror and dropped the knife. "What did I do?" she whimpered.

"You killed him, but he'll be fine." He put his hands in his pockets. "Why did you do it?"

She closed her eyes. "He made me sin. I didn't mean to. Please don't punish me."

"Who told you it was a sin?" She said nothing. "Any chance, just a wild guess here, was it the same people who told you that your visions are a sin? The same people who punish you for speaking the truth about what you see?"

She gaped at him. "I never told you that."

"They wanted to shut you up for good, right? A doctor was coming in two days, he was coming to lobotomize you."

She collapsed on the floor. The Doctor kneeled down beside her and stroked her hair.

"But you escaped. You escaped, and you found me in the black of the night at the foot of the Appalachian mountains. I've seen too much to believe in coincidences."

She looked up at him, her face wet with tears. "I wasn't even looking for you, I swear."

"You must have been looking for something. What was your heart's deepest wish as you ran barefoot through the dark? A means of escape? Someone to rescue you? A safe place to hide? People who might accept you?"

She nodded, then began to sob.

"You found it," he went on. "Did you even see that? Everything you wanted most in the universe, and what did you find? My ship."

She looked around, really seeing the bizarre room for the first time.

The Doctor continued. "I said you could stay as long as you wish, and I meant that. But there are rules. For example- no killing my friends."

"I'm so sorry," she stammered.

He shushed her. "Just give him a moment."

* * *

He cradled her there on the metal grating until Jack returned from the dead. He coughed a little blood and sat up.

Vivian was stunned. "I thought I killed you," she whispered.

"You sure did." Jack slapped himself on the chest. "But I'm fine now."

"You probably deserved it," the Doctor said.

After a moment the two men grinned at each other. Vivian looked back and forth between them, until she found herself smiling too.

* * *

Days later, after the Doctor had mysteriously gone off on two separate occasions, and Jack and Vivian had apologized profusely to each other before Jack left, things seemed to settle down. Vivian was ready to talk. She found him in the main room, tinkering around with all the strange levers and switches, and muttering to himself.

"Got a moment?" she asked.

"Yup, just let me…" he turned a crank and something in the room chirped. "Yes!" He twirled around and grinned. "What it is, then?"

She couldn't help but smile back. He was like a little boy with a new plaything. "I just wanted to ask you some questions."

"Took you long enough." He hopped over to the bench seat and crossed his feet "Ask me anything." His eyes sparkled.

"You spoke of what I was looking for when I found you. You called this a safe place, and a way to escape. I believe you, but I don't understand. People will be looking for me, what if someone comes knocking here? You said I could stay here, but how do we escape and be safe?"

The Doctor nodded. "You think we're still parked at the foot of the mountain, just a few miles from where you broke free. Hmm?"

She frowned. "Of course we're still – wait, what do you mean, parked?"

He stood and held out his hand, which she took. He led her to the door. "Ready for this?" He didn't wait for her answer, and swung the door open wide.

Her breath caught in her throat. Just beyond the door was a lush jungle. Birds called overhead, and rain dripped down around them. Strange flowers grew nearby. A monkey swung past, startling her into laughter. She turned back to the Doctor. He watched her, looking pleased with himself.

"No human eye has ever seen this before today. We are deep in the Amazon rainforest, further than anyone will set foot for nearly sixty years."

She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. "What are you waiting for then?" She tugged him out the door.

They were drenched in under a minute, but neither could stop giggling. He let her take the lead until she slipped into a mud bank, and in helping her out, they both became covered in wet slime, laughing.

* * *

Later that night over dinner, it was his turn to ask questions. "When do you first remember seeing things that no one else could?"

She sat back to think. "I don't remember this, but when I was three years old, I used to tell people I that angels would talk to me. No one took it seriously, of course. Until my older brother died." She gazed at the ceiling, deep in thought. "Then when I was fifteen, I dreamed about an accident in town, and then it happened just like I dreamt. They sent me to a monastery for eighteen months to get the devil out of me. I didn't tell anyone my dreams after that, I just wrote them all down."

She paused, and glanced over at the Doctor. He reached out and took her hand, nodding for her to continue.

"Then my cousin found one of my journals. I had written about my grandfather's death, a full month before it happened. The police questioned me, they even suspected me of killing him, but nothing would add up. Townsfolk started looking at us funny, and it was hurting my dad's business. So they sent me away."

He held his hand in both of his. "Does anyone else in your family have a kind of perception?"

"My mother's side, yes. My aunt could feel where people had died. My grandmother used to know when someone was going to get hurt, once she saved a child from drowning. My nephew was afraid of certain statues."

"Smart kid," the Doctor interrupted. "Do you know any further back? Great-grandparents? Anything? What about your dad's side?"

Vivian jerked her head up. "That's just it, I don't know. My mother had an affair, and my real father was killed before I was born. The man who raised me isn't my dad. I'm not even sure if he knows that."

"Did she ever tell you about him? His name, how they met?"

"She never called him by his name. He was some sort of teacher, though. That's all she ever mentioned."

"A school teacher? University?" The Doctor wrinkled his forehead in thought.

Vivian shook her head. "I don't know. That's all she ever called him. The Teacher."

"What?" The Doctor rolled his eyes. "No way. You've got to be joking me!"

* * *

The next morning Vivian woke to the sound of a pile of books being dropped beside her. The Doctor stood beside her, practically bouncing in his shoes. "Good morning, sunshine. We've got work to do. We're going to find your real dad."


	2. Chapter 2

They spent the whole day searching through papers. Actually Vivian spent most of the day, but the Doctor got bored in about an hour and disappeared. It was hard enough to find records on someone if you knew their real name, but it was as if her father had never existed. All she knew for certain was that he had died before she was born. She had scoured the death certificates for that year, but it was impossible to narrow it down.

Vivian was glad to give up when the Doctor arrived with dinner in paper bags. It was dry meat wrapped in what looked like a pancake, but it smelled so good she didn't care. With her mouth stuffed full, she glanced up and saw that he was grinning. "What's the smile for?" she mumbled.

"I've found something about your father," he said, sounding a bit cocky. Vivian's eyes grew wide, and he beamed in satisfaction. "I decided to skip the paperwork and go directly to the source."

She swallowed hard. "The source?"

"Your mother." He pulled a small notepad from his pocket and flipped idly through the pages.

"My mother – and she told you? She actually spoke of my father? To you?"

He pretended to frown. "Don't sound so incredulous, I have my ways. So, aren't you just itching to know what I've got?" He didn't wait for her answer. "A safe box. Your father has a box at the post house."

Vivian was stunned. Her mind started to rush with ideas of what might be in that box. "So, how do we get it? Did my mother have the key? Wait, why didn't she ever get it herself?"

"No key, but I've got something better." He waved a little silver gadget at her, and pocketed it again before she got a good look. "Your mother never retrieved it herself because she didn't want her husband to find out."

"In heaven's name, Doctor, how did you get her to share all this?"

He looked very proud of himself. "I'm the Doctor, remember?" His gaze softened a bit, and he put his hand on Vivian's shoulder. "At her core, she wants what is best for her daughter. When I hinted that any information regarding your father might help with your recovery, she was more than happy to spill."

Vivian put her head down and tried keep her composure. She hadn't let her hopes get too high, and now this was all too much.

"So, Vivie," the Doctor asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement, "when shall we go?"

* * *

The pair of them set off early the next morning. Vivian was still unaccustomed to the way the blue box arrived in new places, but it was faster than walking. She did her hair up to look presentable, while the Doctor borrowed a new dress for her off someone's clothesline.

At the post house, a stiff little man in a suit glared at them while the Doctor explained what they were looking for. He took a lamp and grudgingly led them down a dingy hallway.

"Thanks, good man, that will be all," the Doctor dismissed him warmly. The man gave them a suspicious look before walking away.

Vivian found the row and shelf with the numbers matching those in the notepad. "Here, I think

I've found it." She held up the light as he double-checked the numbers. They grinned at each other and pulled on the handle. A flat, long box slid out, dark green metal with a lock on the top.

The Doctor glanced around, then pulled the silver gadget out of his pocket and pointed it at the lock. It made a high-pitched sound and lit up. Vivian gasped, "what in creation is that thing?"

"Screwdriver." The lid popped open and he turned the box with the opening facing her. "After you."

Reverently, Vivian opened the lid and peered inside. The lamp shone on a variety of trinkets; some loose papers, a cloth sack with a drawstring, a small leather-bound book. A round wooden box carved to look like an elephant. Cuff links. A handkerchief with a monogram letter T.

Vivian couldn't decide where to begin, and she didn't know how to feel. She glanced at the Doctor, but he was deep in thought. He delicately pulled at something underneath the pile. It was a sealed envelope. He studied it, then tipped it towards her in the light. "To my child" was printed neatly across it. Her heart pounded. She couldn't bring herself to take the envelope.

The Doctor pretended not to notice, and tucked the envelope back into the side of the box and began gently pushing some of the objects around with a finger.

Vivian picked up the handkerchief and ran her fingers over the raised letter T. Was this referring to his nickname, the Teacher, or did his real name start with T? Next she picked up the wooden elephant. It was an odd little thing, a fat, happy creature, but her father had liked it enough to keep it, and that made her smile. She took off the lid. The only thing inside was an old metal key. She left it and closed the lid.

The Doctor was squinting at one of the papers. Vivian picked up the little cloth bag. It looked like an old coin purse, and it was heavier than she expected. She loosened the drawstrings and turned it over. Out fell a beat-up silver pocket watch. When it landed in her hand, her heart skipped. Without knowing how, she knew that this watch was important to her father. In her mind she could see him packing it away, knowing one day she would find it. She could see his face.

Part of her mind pulled away from the image. The rational part of her brain sounded a warning; she knew that she couldn't possibly know what her father looked like just from holding some of his old belongings. Another part of her knew it was real, and this frightened her and excited her. She squeezed her fingers around the pocket watch, and tried to focus on the memory of a face she had never seen. The two sides of her mind were in disagreement, and it made her vision swim. "Doctor?" She felt dizzy.

"Vivian, what's wrong?" His steadying hand was there, but she couldn't focus her eyes on him.

"I saw his face," she whispered. "My father, I never met him, but I remember him now." She reached out and grabbed hold of him by his coat. "How is that possible?"

Her knees gave way then, but he caught her and swiftly sat her on the floor, leaning up against the wall of shelves. He deftly looked her over, muttering to himself under his breath, shining a light in her eyes. It made her stomach churn, and she shut her eyes tightly. Finally he noticed her clenched fist and gently pulled back her fingers. "Hello, what's this," he began, then practically leaped backwards.

The pocket watch clunked to the floor and spun a little, and suddenly she felt better. She looked up at him and found she could focus her eyes. The expression she saw in his face did not comfort her.

* * *

After they had put everything back, carefully and without touching the watch again, the Doctor found a back door and they stole away with the entire box. Vivian wanted to ask him what he knew about that watch, but she was afraid. She couldn't begin to understand the new memories that flooded her mind.

When they were safely back, Vivian sat with the box in her lap as the Doctor paced around the room. He would stop now and then, blurting out some phrase that meant nothing to her. "We can't just leave it," he said, pulling his hair back roughly. "I don't know if there's a protocol for this." Another time he shook his hands at her, "but where would he go if we opened it?"

Finally he turned on his heel and stared at her. "Wait, no. Not him. You." He dropped to his knees in front of Vivian. "Your mother, it wasn't her idea to have you committed. Who talked her into it?"

Vivian stared back blankly. She didn't know where all this was going, but she could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"Oh, Vivie. I'm sorry, I really am. But I'm going to have to ask you to do something very brave. How badly do you want to know the truth?" All she could do was nod. He kneeled down in front of her and gave a sad smile. "Then I'm going to have to take you back to the hospital."

* * *

The Doctor had told her the rough outline of his plan, but Vivian could not stop shaking. At first

she had just been angry, furious actually, even took a swing at him. Then came hopelessness and despair, and she had tried to plead with him to find another way. Now she was only terrified. She sat hunched on the bench, clothed in her drab hospital dress again, while the Doctor rambled on.

"Remember, to you it's been over a week, but I'm dropping you off the same day you left, so likely no one will notice you were gone." When she didn't respond, he kneeled down in front of her. "You're a very strong young woman, Vivian. You can do this."

She met his gaze. He looked so earnest. She wanted very badly to believe him. "Promise you won't leave me."

"Cross my hearts. I'll steal back in to get you before the surgery. Besides, you only need to stay long enough for me to figure out who wanted you there in the first place." He offered his hand, which she took, and he led her to the door.

She looked out on a familiar corridor. It was the hall just outside her old ward. It was nighttime. She put one bare foot onto the cold stone floor, then the other.

"Wait," whispered the Doctor. He pulled something out of his jacket and stuffed it into her hand. "Be brave." He kissed the back of her fingers. The next thing she knew, the blue door snapped shut and he was gone.

She stood alone in the hallway for what seemed hours, until a scruffy orderly on security rounds noticed her. "You best not be thinking about running off, Miss Simpkins." He took her by the elbow and led her to one of the doors. "Nurse won't be happy to hear about this." He unlocked the door as he pulled Vivian by the arm. "Maybe we could work something out, and I won't have to tell her."

* * *

Vivian cried herself to sleep that night. She wept silently, so as not to bother the dozen other patients in their beds lined up in rows all through the room. She held the handkerchief close, running her fingers over the raised letter T in the dark. This is what the Doctor had thrust into her hands at the last moment. It didn't make her feel brave, but it was proof for her that she hadn't dreamed the whole thing up, so that was something.

She had no pockets, and she knew someone would take the scarf if it was noticed. She decided to tie the scarf around her upper arm. There she could feel it close, but it would stay safely concealed under the sleeve of her hospital dress.

When she finally fell asleep, she slept fitfully. She dreamed of the extraordinary washroom with

all the buttons, and all the strange foods she had tasted. She dreamed of Jack and his lips, and how she had felt when she believed him to be dead. More than once she dreamed of that strange creaking sound the blue box made when the Doctor arrived, and she awoke only to the disappointment that the sound was only in her dream.

* * *

The next morning, the Head Nurse sent for her before she had even finished her breakfast. Vivian pushed the scarf higher up her arm, and followed a young orderly through the maze of hallways. She was so deep in her own thoughts, she was startled when they arrived at the room.

"Miss Simpkins," the Head Nurse said. She nodded at an exam table, and the orderly nudged Vivian towards it. "A little bird told me that you tried to escape during the night."

Vivian sat down stiffly on the exam table. "Of course not, ma'am." She looked down at her feet, thinking about how dirty they had gotten already.

The Head Nurse shook her head. "Miss Simpkins, we've been over this. Lying is such a destructive behavior. If you wish to get better, you must start speaking the truth."

Vivian lowered her chin to her chest. She knew the nurse was referring to her premonitions; of course everyone believed she was lying. Everyone, except the Doctor.

"I've scheduled you a hydro compression therapy session this morning. I think it should do you quite a lot of good." Vivian started to shake. "Use it as a time to reflect, and think about the best course of action towards your recovery."

The orderly took her again by the arm, but Vivian barely noticed. "I'm sorry," she begged. "Please, just put me in confinement." The nurse looked unmoved. "I think more clearly in there, please. I'm sorry I lied. You're right, ma'am, I just need to make better choices."

The Head Nurse pursed her lips. "Remember that next time," she said coldly. "Take her directly to the hydro room."

* * *

Vivian fought, shrieked, and pleaded, but the nurses were well accustomed to that. Hydro compression therapy consisted of wrapping the patient from head to foot in cold, damp sheets. As the sheets dried, they shrunk, squeezing the body tighter and slowing down blood flow. Vivian had experienced this treatment only a few times, but enough to know that she hated it.

She lay on the hard cot for hours, feeling the chill of the cold wrap all the way to her bones. All

the fight had gone out of her. She closed her eyes tight and willed the Doctor to magically appear and whisk her away. If she wished hard enough, she could imagine that the footsteps in the corridor were his. A lilting voice from another room vaguely reminded her of his ramblings. A jaded part of her mind whispered dark thoughts. He was not coming back for her. She was alone, and she would never escape this place, never see him again, not ever. Vivian felt hot tears on her cool face and pushed those thoughts away.

* * *

The Head Nurse came to see her again when the treatment was over. "Feeling better, dearie?" she smiled as the nurses unwrapped Vivian's shivering body.

"Yes ma'am," Vivian avoided the nurse's expectant gaze.

"Hot super and early to bed," the Head Nurse said. "You need to rest up for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" she asked through chattering teeth.

"Yes, our surgeon has arrived a few days ahead of schedule. Your procedure has been bumped up!" She smiled brightly.

Vivian thought her heart would stop beating. "Tomorrow," she nodded.

The Head Nurse beamed proudly as the orderlies led Vivian off. This news was too much. Her eyes would not focus, and she trudged along with shuffling, mindless steps.

She barely touched her dinner, and found herself still wide awake long after the other patients had all been put to bed.

The Doctor had sworn to come back in time, but he would have no way of knowing about this change of plans. If he did arrive as planned, three days from now, it would be too late for her. She untied the handkerchief from her arm and stroked it again. "Please Doctor," she whispered. She didn't even know what to hope for. "Please."

* * *

The next morning, Vivian remained on her cot until a nurse came to find her. "Miss Simpkins, what are you doing still in bed? You've missed breakfast completely. It's time to get ready for your procedure!" The nurse smiled as if this were happy news.

Prepping for surgery began with a hair cut. Vivian had kept her hair long her entire life, but now they chopped away at it without a thought. She held very still as long strands fell around her and onto her lap. It was shorter than a boy's hair, a mess of uneven tufts.

Next came a washing, where they sprayed her down with a water hose. She considered it the least horrible bit; at least the water was lukewarm.

Finally, they put her on the surgical table, and strapped her down with leather buckles. A nurse would be in soon to sedate her, and then it would be over.

Vivian lay on the table, petrified and motionless. She wanted to scream, to scratch and bite her way out of this, and run without stopping, but it was useless. This was her deathbed, only worse. Her mind would be ruined, but her body would keep on. What things would happen to that body, without her mind to guard it?

The door swung upon. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the surgeon. He strolled past her and picked up her medical chart. "Miss Simpkins, I presume." His accent was foreign sounding, German perhaps? His voice was a little muffled by the surgical mask.

He leaned close to her face and pulled down his mask. "Guten tag." He winked.

"Doctor!" Hot tears filled her eyes. "You're really here."

He looked amused with himself. "I told you I would come back." He ruffled her hair. "Love the 'do."

Vivian was laughing and crying at the same time. "When they moved the surgery, I never thought you'd make it." He held her hand for a moment, and she squeezed his fingers as relief and joy washed over her.

Suddenly his expression changed. His eyes flitted towards the door. "Vivian, I'm going to have to ask you to be brave just a little while longer." He gripped her shoulders. "Listen carefully."

* * *

Two nurses came through the door, and the Doctor whirled around. "Letztendlich," he said to them, "lasst uns beginnen!" Both women gave him a funny look. "Apologizes, I forgot where I was for a moment."

"Did you already sedate her?" asked the younger of the two, glancing at Vivian's motionless form.

"Was I not supposed to?" he raised his eyebrows at the nurse.

"It's no matter," said the older nurse. "The operating theater is ready for you."

The two women wheeled the surgical table through a small foyer, then into the surgery room. The operating theater held at least a dozen men of all ages. A hush fell over them when the Doctor made his entrance, shoulders held high.

He strolled around unhurriedly, holding Vivian's medical chart. "Miss Vivian Simpkins, age 20 years." He flipped it open. "Admitted, age 16 years. Reasons for admission include… hysteria, dissolute habits, superstition, irritation of the brain, and novel reading?" He chuckled, and tossed the page over his shoulder. The men in the theater looked around at each other, not sure how to react. The Doctor pulled another sheet from the chart. "Symptoms observed by staff include paranoia, bizarre thoughts, temporary loss of vision, delusions, confused speech, and social dysfunction."

He tossed that page over his shoulder too. "Dissolute habits? Not exactly unheard of for a 16 year old." Some of the men laughed uneasily. "Not uncommon, at least." He began to unbuckle the strap over Vivian's legs. The younger nurse started forwards, but the other motioned her back. The Doctor continued. "Superstition, now that's a tricky one. We're all superstitious, to some extent." He started on the buckle across her hips.

The young nurse stepped forward and put her hand on his arm. "Doctor, what are you doing?" she asked, alarmed.

"What does it look like?" he answered calmly. The nurse dropped her hand. "She's not exactly going to hop up and scamper away," he said pointedly, his mouth very near to Vivian's ear.

"Now where was I? Oh yes, novel reading," he continued, "that can definitely get you into trouble." The men in the theater chuckled forcibly. The Doctor rewarded them with a smile, then unbuckled the final strap across Vivian's chest. "Now you've heard her crimes, is she worthy of the sentence?" His smile was gone. He reached for the chart again, flipped it open without looking at it. "Drill a hole in her skull and scramble her brains around with a stick?"

He walked to the edge of the theater and looked at the men. "All while you sit here and watch, smug and safe from that side of the aisle. Have you ever contemplated how easily it could be you on that table? What's the difference between you and her?"

No one would meet his gaze. The men shifted in their seats, looking uncomfortable. Finally one man spoke up. "Sir, she's a lunatic."

"Says who?" The Doctor turned a cold gaze on him. "The medical staff? They get paid to say that. Her family? They couldn't be bothered with her any longer." He turned and marched over to the surgical table. "Vivie, time to wake up," he said softly.

Vivian opened her eyes. He took her by the hand and helped her sit up. She looked around, confused for a moment. The young nurse took a few steps back, startled, then took off running.

The Doctor helped Vivian down off the table and led her over to his audience. "How does one get to this point? A disobedient, unruly young woman, cast aside by her family when she becomes an embarrassment. Misdiagnosed again and again by self-serving professionals. Tormented with countless experimental procedures and cockamamie treatments. Neglected by an under-trained and overworked medical staff."

He turned and took her face in both hands. "If you weren't mad to begin with, that ought to do it." He stroked her wild hair and she surprised them both by smiling at him.

He faced the men again, his voice even bolder. "What if your loved ones turned on you?" he asked. "What if you became too much trouble, so they named you a lunatic and sent you here?" Each pair of eyes he met turned away. "Upset the wrong person, say the wrong thing, and get packed off to the asylum where they don't have to think about you anymore." He smacked his hands against the railing. "Whose turn will it be next time? Consider that."

The door to the operating room swung open. The young nurse had returned with two orderlies.

Vivian looked to the Doctor. "Time to go," he said. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her over the rail into the theater. He stopped only to grab her medical chart and toss it's entire contents at the orderlies. "Run!" he shouted as he scrambled over the rail behind her.

The mess of papers littering the floor slowed the orderlies very little. The thinner of the two easily hopped the rail and started to give chase. One of the men in the theater stood and blocked his way.

"Out of the way!" the thin orderly demanded, and stepped onto one of the theater seats. But another man moved into his path, then another.

The second orderly had made it over the rail, but he was blocked too. "What's wrong with you," he shouted hysterically. "They're going to escape!"

The man who had called Vivian a lunatic earlier, now stepped forward. "I imagine they will. Is that a problem?"


End file.
